Letter from Formenos
by Istarnie
Summary: During the early time of his banishment from Tirion, Fëanor struggles with Nerdanel's decision to dwell with Indis.


Disclaimer: All of the characters, places, and the main story line are JRR Tolkien's wonderful creations. All references are from The Silmarillion, or HoME Volumes 1, 10 or 12. Nothing is mine, except the interpretation and any mistakes.

"But Nerdanel would not go with him (Fëanor), and she asked leave to abide with Indis, whom she had ever esteemed, though this had been little to the liking of Fëanor."

(The Later Silmarillion. Morgoth's Ring. P279. J.R.R. Tolkien. ed C. Tolkien)

Formenos. The Year of the Trees 1490

Endless seems the time after the second mingling of the lights. That time after the late meal is finished, discussions and debate are over and most retire to workroom or study, or to the company of their beloved - that time when I would once have sought _thy_ company, _thy_ comfort - it has an endless quality about it these days.

Oh this place, this fortress of mine, it offers me great joy and fulfilment, doubt that not! Formenos is yet growing by the work of our hands and our unfettered fëar to be a citadel that will challenge the glory of Tirion. Always there is much to be about, always much to plan, for we valiants will _continue_ to dwell here after the term of my unlawful banishment is complete - until I devise a way to say farewell to the shores of our captivity, and deliver those who are noble of heart to the lands of our birth.

Very much is there to occupy my thoughts.

Indeed, I scorn the humiliation that Námo sought to deal me. I will not return to Tirion again, not in twelve years – not in twelve hundred - to take second place to that son of Indis. This thou dost know! Thou didst know at the time of my departure – when thou freely chose to embrace the lies of Aulë, and asked leave to dwell with Indis herself – that I would never return as some humbled craven, begging pardon for my alleged transgressions.

I am my own master. No Vala is here to overlook me, to control or condemn or take from me what is mine. No sharp-tongued half-brother to spread falsehoods that I am thought a blackheart; a usurper of my own position as high prince and of my father's love. No poisoned quarrels upon the streets or concourses that the Noldor turn in bitterness, one against another. Here is a strong place to defend ourselves from those who envy and fear us - peace to pursue crafting and study, and a life to live as we choose.

Nay, lady – I miss not Tirion, for at last I am truly free!

But this time of day - each and every day it seems – it is endless. Rest is denied me. Stillness in which to ponder deep matters is a thing unknown. None there are who can restrain my mind-mood that the tumult of my angry and bitter thoughts cease. For I miss _thee _– I miss the beauty of thy mind and form. I miss the haven I once possessed in the company of one who had such understanding of my strivings, my passions and pain – and who until late, ever sought my good.

So it is that in these empty times I have taken up pen and written letter after letter to set forth my thoughts – never meaning to _send_ any writing from this place to the house wherein thou now dost dwell. Or I have sat in my study pondering the statue that is the image I sculpted of thee; walked in memory with more than an image - but never have I, or will I reach out fully in thought for the touch of fëa I desire. I will not beg of thee for that which thou shouldst freely give - thy love and loyalty!

For thou didst ask my leave to dwell with Indis! Thou didst choose she who is the bane of my existence, the one who condemned my mother to unending disembodiment, over thy love for me! Thou – my _lady_ - betrayed me more than thou canst know.

Or mayhap thou _dost_ know…and grieve over thy choice. Even so, faithless though thou art - I miss thee. Though at times my anger flares hot with resentment at thy deed, I would yet forgive if thou didst but acknowledge the error of thy ways and ask leave to dwell with me again.

Now these last few days when I so ponder, a strange thought comes to me: what is the _truth _of matters concerning the Valar; what if there is even the faintest of chances that thou art right, and _I_ the one deceived? Always have I been certain it was thee whom the Valar cozened with their whispered insinuations – that thou wouldst temper me not to my advantage, but to their design.

But what if - what if in truth it is _I _who am ensnared in folly and leading others on a path most perilous?

Though I had no converse with Melkor, indeed I trust him not at all – yet could it be that his poison has spread as thou didst suggest, that I also am tainted? Would that thou were here to discuss this matter further - that thou had never reneged thy vows to me in favour of thy vows to Aulë. Yet is it not possible that these unwelcome doubts in my heart arise from the fact of thy absence alone, rather than from any lack of discernment on my part?

So I will write no more of doubt! None are there here with the wisdom to perceive better than I. If I am in error, then _all_ are in error.

From the window of my study I can observe those three of our sons who are wed, walking in the gardens to the south of the house. At this time of day it is oft their want to walk there with their ladies. Even Turkafinwë sometimes joins them, and he in the company of the Lady Tavariel with whom he rides in the hunt. I hear what they say – the point of their discussion - that I should be happy, yet am become quicker of temper than before, and somewhat morose. They speak earnestly to each other, believing that as I have my father's undivided love; my jewels, treasures and weapons in a place of safekeeping, my mood should be lighter.

The anguish I endure - they do not understand. Not as thou wouldst understand!

I will be who I want to be – no matter what any say or do – no matter what end it leads me to. I will not bow down to the captivity Manwë would foist upon us. I will not have the rightful place of the first-born usurped by a second – a weaker race - any more than I will have _my_ place usurped by my half-brother. I will not give over my most prized creations to be as guarded baubles in the keeping of the Valar.

There are wide and bounteous lands across the Great Sea. The place of the birth of our people – did we not speak oft about the Hither Lands – thou and I? Did we not share a vision of places anew to explore – adventures to be had? Did we not long for freedom to wander at will – and beyond the narrow confines of Aman? A kingdom for each of our sons – aye, and mayhap for those others of my kin – under one High King; and that my father!

But lady – though he speaks not of the matter, my father wills not to return to Cuiviénen. He dwells with me and seems glad – his countenance is bright in the presence of others, his words oft merry; yet his heart is burdened that sometimes I think he would rather depart life as did my mother. So is all I have done for naught?

I crave freedom – yet I perceive that it will cost me dearly. Thou who hast always known my mind more than any, even more than my beloved father, thou must surely know the pain I suffer?

As for thee – I have news from Canafinwë this day that thou art considering retiring to thy father's house. Has thy stay with Indis not brought thee the peace of mind thou had expected? Did Indis' dulcet tones not soothe thy conscience and thy eagerness that thou didst find thyself as removed from the reality of our thralldom as she? And did I not warn thee when we parted of the folly of thy chosen course? Would that thou had paid me heed.

A princess of the Noldor I made thee! Dost thou _truly _prefer the life of a servant – a life denied meaningful action, denied deeds of renown? That was never thy nature – Nerdanel. Ever wert thou free of thought and a challenge at times, even unto me.

And in memory that is more lifelike than dream, it is the time of the second mingling of the light…but a different place than Formenos. No cold and spacious sky of pale washed colour, rather a warm breeze and a rose-hued golden light that turns slowly to silvered haze. I stand again under the apple tree at the centre of thy father's orchard, enveloped in the rich and heady fragrance of abundant blossom. I stand alone, and wait upon thy decision, whether thou dost trust my words to thee – whether thou dost love me as I believe. An endless time it seems, yet brim filled with beauty and hope. Then thou dost come to me – walking slowly through the misted rose garden, on through the trees, to stand before me. Thy sea-grey eyes sparkle with emotion; thy face flushes with warmth as I reach out to take hold of thy hands.

"My heart's love thou dost have, lady," I speak again words from the past.

And I know thy answer before thou dost utter it forth.

I wait again inside these walls of stone … but thou wilt come to me not.

And I love thee…

Ai - disloyal one; how I love thee…

Endless seems the time after the second mingling of the lights, that I long for the presence of the one who can bring rest to my fëa; that I write letters to thee of my solitude and concern - yet through pride will send them not.

- - - - - - -

Turkafinwë – Celegorm

Canafinwë – Maglor.

Notes: In HoME 10, it says that, when Fëanor is sent into exile his sons, his father, and some of the Noldor went with him – but Nerdanel refused to go with him, and asked leave to abide with Indis. In HoME 12 it says that after long endeavouring to change Fëanor's mood, Nerdanel retired to her father's house.

I do not see a problem in fitting these accounts together. If Nerdanel initially dwelt with Indis, it is possible she later moved on to her father's house.


End file.
